No Heroes
by Spirit Wolf
Summary: A short story I wrote for an English assignment. It's about the horror of war, as opposed to the glory.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Mechwarrior, Battletech, or anything like that. I just wrote this for fun. ^_^ And for a school assignment. 

**Author's Note:** This was written for an assignment, in which we had to select a piece of war poetry and write a story based around it. This story was based on a poem of the same name, and it can be found at the end of the story. I also based it on Mechwarrior 2, so Mech names from Mechwarrior 2 apply. Pilot names don't mean anything, though. I think I accidentally named them after the Clan Wolf Khans. ^_^; 

  


**_No Heroes_**  
**By Spirit Wolf**

"Keep your eyes open, men. Our targets are not far." The Nova Colonel's voice was calm and steady, but even I noticed the slight edge of excitement in his voice. I envied him. He had been in more battles than I could count, and his Mech had been customised almost completely. It was a massive Dire Wolf, fitted with a prototype engine and jumpjets. Not to mention some of the nastiest weaponry. 

I, on the other hand, had only been able to change the weapons on my Timber Wolf, and not even very freely. I was only a Mechwarrior, after all. After a few promotions, things would be better off. 

"Ready to burn some dirty Falcons?" Mechwarrior Nicholas asked me over a private communications line. 

"Sure am," I answered. 

"Scared?" 

"Of course not!" 

He laughed. "Come on, it's our first real battle. You've gotta at least be nervous, Kev." 

I allowed myself a smile. "Yeah," I confessed. "I guess I am a little nervous." 

"Good. That makes two of us. By the way, I could totally kick your butt." 

I turned my Timber Wolf's torso around at a 90-degree angle so I could see his Mech. It was a Marauder. It reminded me of a spider in its design, as its arms and legs were long and thin. Its cockpit, however, was oval-shaped, with a large energy cannon mounted on the top, and what looked like whiskers protruding from the bottom. 

"Yeah, right," I sneered. "My Mech's way faster than yours. I could run circles around you all day." 

"Jade Falcon Mechs detected!" Star Commander Natasha announced. "They're just over the next dune." 

"How many?" Nova Colonel Graham snapped. 

"At least forty." 

"Just as we expected," Graham said softly. He sounded as if he were trying to reassure us. I risked a glance over at his Mech. Even from this distance, I could see the missile launchers on his Dire Wolf's arms preparing themselves for battle. Next to him walked Star Commander Natasha's Mech, a Nova. The Nova is one of the smallest and lightly armed Mechs, but it also has incredible speed and the option of jumpjets, so no one ever questioned her Mech choice. 

There were other Mechs all around us. Everywhere. An entire army of Wolf Clan Mechwarriors, all ready for battle. All ready to engage the Jade Falcons. 

I tightened my grip on the controls of my Timber Wolf. It was a good Mech, widely used throughout the Wolf Clan. And for good reason. It had reasonable armour, a great running speed, and plenty of room for weapons. The cockpit was long, like a wolf's snout. Two square-shaped missile racks were mounted on the top of the cockpit, faintly resembling a wolf's ears. The arms and legs were fairly thin, but not too weak. 

My radar lit up with heat signatures from the enemy Mechs. I focused the targeting computer on the closest one. The image enhancer showed me the outline of a Falcon Mech; it looked like a Rifleman IIC. 

"ETA 15 seconds!" 

"This is it. Remember the Clan; and remember who our enemies are," the Nova Colonel commanded. 

"ETA 10 seconds! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5..." 

My displays told me my Mech was functioning at full power. My weapons were armed. My missiles locked. The enemy was just over the dune. In a few moments, it would happen. In a few moments… 

"Arrival!" the Star Commander announced. Her voice was tense, and there was a high-pitched mechanical whine as her Nova kicked into full power. It was twice as fast as my Timber Wolf on this terrain. 

All at once, we were over the dune. The Rifleman was right in front of me. I pulled the trigger. 20 missiles launched from my left missile rack. They headed directly for the Rifleman, but it was too quick. It activated its jump-jets and neatly dodged my assault. Then it struck back. 

My Mech shuddered from the endless laser fire. I spun it to the left and twisted the torso to the right, so I could still fire back. I lined him up in my sights, activated all of my own laser cannons, and fired them all at once. 

They were right on target. The Rifleman's left arm was blown clear off, and its torso was badly damaged. It managed to survive my second shot, but not my third. It exploded in a great ball of fire. 

A warning siren went off. My Mech was overheating, but now that I had stopped firing, the temperature was dropping once again. 

I paused and realized my hands were sweaty. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. What was wrong with me? 

My Mech reeled from another assault. I spun it around and saw my attacker: a Mad Dog, circling around me, firing its lasers. There was a warning signal as its missiles locked on. And then it fired. 

My vision was obscured by fire. I heard yet more warning sirens, but these were more urgent. I looked down at my display and saw that my left arm was gone, and the left side of my torso was badly damaged. 

I felt my heart beating like it was about to burst. My Mech! I locked on with my missiles and fired again and again. Even when I heard the "ammo not ready" click, I kept pulling the trigger. The Mad Dog was engulfed in a plume of flame, and it collapsed. 

Not too far away, I saw another Mech. It was from the Wolf Clan, like me. It was hit by a massive ball of plasma, and in an instant, it was devastated. Its attacker turned its attention towards me. 

In my panic, I didn't even see what it was. I just fired my lasers over and over. My heart was in my throat. My stomach was churning. My Mech was overheating. 

"Kevin! Where are you?!" 

To my left, I noticed a Wolf Clan Marauder. It was badly damaged - helpless, even. One of its legs was missing. Its enemy, a Timber Wolf like me, was circling around behind him. 

"Nicholas!" I yelled, but it was too late. The laser fire knocked his other leg out from under him. His cockpit landed hard in the dirt, and another shot finished him off. 

"Nick!!! No!" I cried. "NICK!!!" 

The Timber Wolf turned towards me, and with a well-aimed shot, blew my left leg off. It was going to kill me just like it did Nick. 

A Nova blew past me at a shocking speed. As it ran, it turned its cockpit slightly and fired. And fired. And fired. The Timber Wolf collapsed. 

"Are you okay, Mechwarrior?" Natasha asked. I couldn't reply. I was shaking with shock, anger, and fear. I couldn't even speak to warn Natasha of the massive Kodiak Mech coming up behind her. And I could only watch as it fired. As Natasha turned - too slowly - to face the threat. As her cockpit imploded and her Mech fell lifelessly to the ground. 

"N-n-no..." I managed to gasp out. The Kodiak turned towards me. It aimed. It fired. 

~~~~~~~~~~

I opened my eyes slowly, painfully aware that my left arm was broken. I looked up at the stars and wondered where I was. Only then did I realize I was looking up through the shattered roof of my Timber Wolf's cockpit. I was lucky to be alive. 

I pulled the emergency release and climbed painfully to my feet. From my fallen Timber Wolf, I could see the hundreds of mechanical corpses all around me. And I could see, illuminated by the fires, a single flag, bearing the Wolf Clan insignia. 

I smiled grimly, almost without emotion. We had won. 

It didn't matter. 

  


**_~ The End ~_**

  
**_No Heroes_**

There were no heroes here  
Amongst the men who tramped through  
Rutted, quaking moor,  
Or crawled, cat-silent,  
Over skittering scree  
To prove the way. 

No heroes fought the blazing fires  
Which sucked the very blood from  
Ship and man alike.  
Or braved knife cold  
Without a thought  
To save a life. 

No heroes they, but ones who loved  
Sweet life and children's laugh,  
And dreamt of home  
When war allowed.  
They were but men. 

_David Morgon _


End file.
